Protector
by damianalghulwayne
Summary: He was the heir of the Demon's Head and a Wayne legacy, she was an orphan given a home in exchange for her life to protect another.
1. Prologue

**(17 years earlier)**

 **PROLOUGE**

 _Knock, Knock_

"Enter." A feminine voice with and edge replied to the knock with curt words.

One of the assassins entered the room and bowed deeply before relaying his message.

"Lady Talia, we have found the most peculiar thing on the outskirts of the base," He hesitated.

"Well?" Talia Al'Ghul Head of the Demon prompted annoyed.

Just then a maid came into the room bowing and asking permission to approach.

"Granted."

"Lady Talia, this is what was found." The maid said offering the bundle in her arms to the mistress.

Talia was hesitant. There could be anything within the blankets, but she had company, and an Al Ghul was never afraid so she slowly pulled back the blankets and barely managed to keep her shock within.

"A child?..." Talia asked in disbelief although she was cold and collected on the outside as always.

"A female Lady Talia." The maid replied with a slight shake of her hands as she held the child while being scrutinized.

Talia opened her mouth to dismiss the child not caring much of her fate but then a thought stuck her. She would be the _perfect_ candidate for the job. No family. No name. No background. Barely a month old. She could be raised within the league and made into the perfect protector. She would know nothing but the league so she would be the epitome of loyalty. _Perfect timing too,_ Lady Talia thought to herself.

"Very well, begin her training."

"As you wish my lady," The maid and assassin bowed making their way out of the room and closing the doors behind themselves.

Her son would be a force to reckon with, and with a loyal servant he would be untouchable.

Lady Talia smirked before making her way to watch a young boy throw knives.

 **So this is just a flash in the past to show you how our main female protagonist made her way into the league. Ra's will not be in this fanfiction though *winces* sorry. I'm probably also going to follow the Batman & Robin storyline, but altered :).**


	2. Chapter 1

_Clash!_

 _Clash!_

"oomph!"

 _Thump!_

 _Thump!_

"Heeyah!"

 _Clang!_

"Enough!"

Immediately the two sparing dropped their swords. The man huffed, and at the command bowed.

"Lady Talia." The mentor and student greeted simultaneously, slowly rising.

Talia regarded the girl carefully. Noting how it looked as if she could go on forever without breaking a sweat. She looked calm despite the fact that she had just sparred two hours straight with a skilled swordsman.

"Disperse," Talia commanded the man. He bowed and left. "I made you a promise Amara, and I intend to keep it." With that Talia began to pace.

"I remember my Lady." Amara replied. She had waited years, trained till the brink of exhaustion, and worked hard to rise amongst the ranks. Of course she remembered what she had always wanted. It was the driving force of her years spent becoming stronger, better, faster.

"I promised you freedom in the outside world once I felt you were ready. Not as a mission but to live as a civilian, as long as you always answer the call of the league if need arise."

Amara was anxious, when Lady Talia spoke you knew you were to listen. _So what is she trying to get at? Am I ready?_

Amara decided to go in for the kill, "Lady Talia… are you implying—?"

"Yes Amara, you are ready to spread your wings. Pack your bags, you leave at noon. I have a company there under the name Crosswell, you've never had a last name but this company is yours. I've been building it since you made your... _request._ It's in the heart of Gotham, but you'll have to wait until your 18 to run it. But you have a trust fund to meet your expenses."

Amara was nodding her head and eagerly taking in all the new information but paused.

 _Gotham?..._

Talia gave a cold smile before leaving the room.

 _No way…_

Amara watched her leave with wide eyes.

 _Damian?_

•

After riding Talia's private chopper to the nearest airport Amara rode commercial straight to Gotham. When Amara had asked about her _special_ luggage, Talia had assured her it would reach her new home. Another thing Talia had assured she not worry about. As of now Amara was trying to hail a cab to the address given.

 _Trying_ being the key word.

At the sight of another Amara stepped forward only to jump back as it continued to speed off. Amara grit her teeth, annoyed that no one would give her time of day. _Civilians,_ she scoffed _always stuck in their own worlds._

"Excuse me miss?" a male's voice broke through her annoyance.

Amara turned to meet a man with black hair, blue eyes, lean muscles and an overall attractive appearance. But that's not what had Amara pause; no it was the _happiness_ in his eyes. Genuine happiness.

"Uh..miss?" Dick interrupted.

"Yes?" Amara replied, realizing she probably looked like a moron.

"Do you happen to have a phone I could borrow? I killed my battery." he asked with a sheepish smile rubbing the back of his neck.

Amara shook her head, "No I'm new here." _Fool! You've given away too much!_

"Really? Where are you heading?" Dick asked, curious.

Amara contemplated whether or not to answer but decided it was in her best interest to not raise suspicion; the man didn't look like he'd be easily fooled.

"Gotham."

Now Dick was honestly surprised. People didn't willingly come to Gotham. "May I ask what brings you?"

"A new beginning." Amara answered curtly.

"Do you have a ride?" Dick asked when he saw Alfred pull up.

"No, unfortunately."

"Well...uh.."

"Amara." She supplied.

"Richard but I go by Dick."

"That is a very... _peculiar_ name."

"Yeah... Anyways, my ride just pulled up, and I'm also heading to Gotham. Wanna ride?"

Amara stopped and fully studied the man. _Lean. Relaxed. Looks like he could hold his own in a fight... I could probably take him down if need arise..._

"It's okay, I get that I'm a stran—"

"Sure."

Dick paused, he hadn't expected her to say yes so quickly, "Uhh..are you sure?"

"Of course. Who am I to refuse a free ride?" _I don't want to wait for an incompetent taxi driver. I'll take my chances._

"Great! Follow me!" Dick picked up his bags and headed to the limo.

"A limo?" _Who was this guy? Should I reconsider my options?_

"Uh yeah. My adoptive fathers rich." Dick mumbled.

Amara was able to read his body language, and it displayed discomfort.

"Pray tell, who is your guardian?" Amara asked as he loaded their belongings into the trunk.

 _Great, now she'll probably want something from me._ "Bruce...," Dick cleared his throat and spoke a little louder, "Bruce Wayne."

 _Wayne..?_

 _Why does that name sound so_ —

 _Oh._

Amara's eyes widened.

She just had a knack for getting herself into the most complicated situations.

 _Like meeting Batman's ward as soon as she landed._

Amara gave him a tight smile before entering the car leaving him to fit his luggage in the trunk.

"Good evening."

Alfred turned in his seat to the unknown voice.

"Good evening... If I may be so bold to ask...who are you?"

 _Please don't be one of Richard's flings._

"My name is Amara Crosswell, I am new to Gotham and Dick offered me a ride, I hope you don't mind making an extra stop?"

 _Phew._

"Of course not. Welcome to Gotham, my name is Alfred; the Wayne family butler. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"The pleasures all mine."

"Miss Amara, you said you're last name is Crosswell..."

The door opened and Dick slid in.

"It's nice to see you again Alfred." Dick said with a huge smile, "Have you met Amara?"

"It's good to see you too Master Richard, as a matter of fact I have and I was just asking Miss Amara about her last name."

Amara interrupted "Just Amara is fine."

Dick laughed, "Forget it, he'll never cut the formalities."

Amara sighed, "Yes my last name is Crosswell, why?"

At first Dick didn't understand what her last name had to with anything until she said it.

"Would your last name give you any ties to Crosswell industries?"

Amara smiled, she wasn't surprised he knew Crosswell, it was a rival company for Wayne industries; and of course when you were Batman's butler you probably knew a lot of people and names.

"I must give you credit Alfred, there is more to you than what meets the surface. I did not expect anyone to make the connection. But yes, I am heir to Crosswell if that answers your question."

"I may be a butler, but I'm damn good at it." Alfred joked.

"That you are."

"Would you happen to have an address?"

Amara handed him the note.

According to Talia, it was an isolated building sitting near the poor and rich districts of Gotham; with a bunker full of weapons and a costume she'd designed herself. But they didn't need to know the last part.

•

"This is it."

All three turned to look at the building. It wasn't too flashy, it just said someone lived here.

"Thank you for the ride Alfred, Dick. Perhaps we'll meet again; and before you offer, I can get my bag. It's just the one." Amara continued as she stepped out.

Dick stepped out with her, pulling out a piece of paper with his number on it.

"Ring me when you get a cell would you? I think we'd make fine friends."

 _Friends with Nightwing? One of the many people Lady Talia despises? Of course..._

"I'm sure we will Dick. Thank you for helping me, how can I repay you?" She replied taking the note and tucking it in her pocket.

"It was nothing...but there is one thing you could do for me..." Dick said with a sly smile.

 _It was a figure of speech!_ Amara placed a calm smile on her face like she'd been trained to,"Name it."

They began walking to the entrance as she pulled the keys out.

"Well I have a younger brother, around your age, 18. We're having a gala and he hates them, but maybe if he has a lovely young lady by his side...?"

 _Younger brother... Of course... Just my luck..._

"As long as he doesn't step on my toes, I'll be there."

"Oh Damian's a great dancer, I can assure that. It's tomorrow at eight, he'll pick you up." Dick was full out grinning now.

Amara smiled.

"Great."

•

"Hey Alfred? Is it just me or did something seem off about Amara?"

"I don't know Master Richard. She's strange yes, but she's kind."

"Hmm yeah you're right," Dick mused, " How's everything been with Damian and Bruce since I've left?"

"Much, much better."

Dick laughed.

"Wait 'till he learns about his new date."

Alfred cracked a smile as Dick chuckled.

•

 _Thump,thump,thump._

 _Smack!_

 _Swoosh!_

 _Clang!_

Amara had been going at the dummy for a while now; it was a stress reliever and a good pass time. Amara caught sight of the costume and halted her attack, lowering her blade. She knew she couldn't just abruptly begin a vigilante life like the Bat. She just got into town and another mask comes with her? Yeah try going a day without being a suspect. She'd have to wait it out, plan it out. And when the opportunity would present itself, pounce. Good thing patience was one of her virtues. Amara raised her blade and focused on the dummy.

 _Clang!_

 _Smack!_

 _Thump, thump, thump._


	3. Thank you

"No Amara you must carry out the blows much quicker than that or your opponent will best you."

"Yes sensai."

Amara had been training with the league for five years, she'd just recently gotten into the more physical part of her training. She was told she was to guard Lady Talia's son with her life. Amara felt honoured to be given the task. She was to protect the heir to the Demon's Head. The girl also felt obligated to do so since Lady Talia had given her a home, a purpose. She'd never be able to repay her, but if protecting her son was what she asked of Amara she would deliver.

"No! No! No! Amara you're not focused!"

Amara sighed, disappointed in herself. "I'm sorr-"

"We will continue tomorrow Amara." The sense interrupted with a clipped tone.

Amara bowed out of respect and exited the dojo.

What a failure she was. _How can I protect anyone when I can't even defend myself?!_

As Amara made the journey from the dojo to her room she heard something in the room next to her. Curious, she backtracked and peeked through the slight gap between the door and frame.

There was a boy around her age with hair as dark as night sitting in front of an easel painting the most beautiful scene of the desert they lived in. She'd never found the desert all that fascinating what with all the heat. But the way the boy painted made her feel as if the desert deserved another chance when looking though his eyes with all the beauty and life he'd managed to portray on the canvas.

For the first time Amara smiled wholeheartedly on the way to her chambers, wondering what colour the boy's eyes were. Without even trying he had made her bad day a whole lot better. Maybe someday she'd be able to thank him.


	4. Chapter 2

.

 _Bleep! Bleep! Blee_ —

Amara quickly swiped across the phone to dismiss the alarm. She checks the time.

 _7:00 PM_

 _Just enough time to get ready_ she thought as she bookmarked her page and got up.

Amara placed her newly bought dress on the bed while placing the new phone on charge. She'd gone out earlier and picked up basic necessities along with makeup and a dress. Once she got her towel she walked into the bathroom to hang it and turned on the tap. Amara began to undress before getting in. A million thoughts raced through her head as she stood under the hot spray of water, but she quickly dismissed them and got back to the task at hand.

 _7:10PM_

"Master Damian, while I understand the need to hunt down the Joker, you still have an image to uphold at tonight's gala. You and Master Bruce can hunt the madman down afterwards." Came Alfred's voice down into the cave as he descended the steps.

Damian sighed as he pushed himself away from the batcomputer and stood up to stretch, "I suppose I must Pennyworth."

Alfred smiled, "I've left a suit on your bed. All you have to do is shower and freshen up."

Damian smiled to himself as he headed up the steps.

 _7:14 PM_

Amara dried her hair then stepped out and wrapped herself in the towel. She walked over to her bed and put on her undergarments before throwing on her robe. Walking back into the washroom she got out her curling iron and grabbed her make up bag.

 _7:30PM_

"A date? Pray tell who you've set me up with this time Dick," Damian seethed, "You know I hate when you medd—"

"I know! I know! But she's a nice person! Just this once Dami! I won't bother you about a date again!"

Damian made a growling noise at the back of his throat, "Just this once, Grayson, and you better stay true to your words." He strode towards the doors after picking up his coat.

 _7:45 PM_

After completing her hair and makeup Amara exited the washroom and shed her robe. She grasped the floor length dress she'd spent a good part of her time hunting for, admired it, and then slipped it on. Amara grabbed her silver clutch and heels, grasped her phone and headed downstairs to wait; trying to focus on not tripping rather than her date.

 _Thank god I learned make up, hair and clothes. Now let's hope this night goes just as well._

 _8:00 PM_

As Damian stood in front of his supposed date's doors he hoped she wasn't stuck up, and would at least be tolerable for the night. He sighed before ringing the bell.

A moment later the door swept open to present Amara, in all her beauty with a cashmere shawl woven around her.

"I suppose you are Damian Wayne?" she offered her hand, "Amara Crosswell."

 _Crosswell hmm?_ Damian thought as he shook her hand with a smile, _interesting._

 _8:15 PM_

After spending 15 minutes in comfortable silence with the radio softly playing, they had arrived at the gala, walking in with her arm tucked into the crook of his elbow.

"Ohhh look Alfie! Beauty and the Beast have arrived! I should go welcome them!" Dick waltzed away leaving Alfred to sigh.

"So—"

"Well—"

"Dami! Amara! You two didn't kill each other! I'm so proud." Dick interrupted both of them, wiping away a fake tear.

"Why did you believe you'd have to bury two bodies tonight Grayson?" Damian humoured him.

"No reason…" He sang.

Soon the two began their rounds introducing themselves. While Damian was openly gawked at (as usual) for being a Wayne, jaws dropped at the revelation of the Crosswell heir. Who knew?

Just as another woman made her way towards the two Damian asked, "Would you like to dance to avoid talking to that lady?"

Amara glanced over and smiled in response. _You can fight joker, a half faced madman, a dozen criminals and you can't deal with one more woman. Go figure._

"I can't throw you to the sharks now can I?"

Relieved and a bit sheepish, Damian crosses the hall towards the dance floor where couples were gently swaying.

"So Damian, tell me about yourself."

Damian frowns. _I've been fighting crime as long as I can remember. As my father likes to say 'crime never sleeps'. Which means I barely get 4 hours of sleep a week dealing with a Wayne image and being a vigilante. I fight madmen on a daily basis and sometimes I can't get out of bed in the morning, putting the lack of sleep aside and taking pain into consideration, because although I'm a shadow in the night I'm still a human being made of flesh and blood and bones but I have to forget that often. I feel like I'm Renegade and Damian Wayne is the mask. I have a newly stitched cut on my ribs and I have the joker in the back of my mind—_ " Well there's not much to say."

"Oh come on, you can't expect me to believe that do you? Everyone—"

Dick watches Amara laugh at something Damian says and smiles, "I did well didn't I Alfred?"

Alfred sighs, "Whatever floats your boat Master Dick, whatever floats your boat."

"Hey! What's _that_ supposed to mean?"

As the night winds down Amara stares into his eyes

 _I'm drowning in his eyes and I'm not afraid._

Damian quirks an eyebrow in question.

 _I drowned in his eyes long ago, I've been a sailor lost at sea._

Amara shakes her head.

 **This is the WORST chapter ever. I've written it twice and it feels horrible. I'm so sorry it took me… *starts counting on fingers* 6 months? Damn. I'm so sorry. I've had a tough 6 months, but I'm finally past this cringe worthy chapter so I can finally get back in the mood and flow of writing. Again I'm so sorry. Feel free to curse me in your head. Also thank you for all the comments even if you just told me to update. It means a lot. :)**


	5. Blue Eyes

I am trying to keep my breathing under control. If I start panting like an air deprived captive all my efforts will be for naught.

I trudge through the water dripping wet towards the sand. Lady Talia has brought us to her private island to learn swimming. It is a welcome change from the biting cold of the mountains.

"Good job Amara you have successfully completed all your swimming courses. You are free to practice other skills for the day." My instructor admires in a monotone voice before walking off.

I can feel the ghost of a smile upon my face. I love the sea I am full of pride at my accomplishment but I don't let any other emotion flicker through my mask.

It's what I've been taught to do.

I stand there for a moment, bathing in my victory and admiring the view. I am contemplating what to do next when I see him.

I see him now and I wonder if I will ever get the chance to know the colour of his eyes

Just one glance would be enough for my tired eyes.

Please turn around.

I silently gasp.

Maybe I've done something right in life. Maybe fate sees that because he turns to look around for a moment.

His eyes are blue.

Not just any blue. A deep royal blue that reminds me of raging storms over the sea.

I take one look and I'm lost in the heart of the sea.

I'm drowning in the sea and no amount of training is going to help.

The currents are so strong.

Oh so strong.

But I don't mind.

 **Someone once mentioned that Damian should/might be able to recognize Amara since they grew up together. The thing is they barely ever saw each other. Damian didn't even know she existed. She knew him, but he did not know her. *Pauses.* That's a good one. *Writes it down.* Anyway, in this flashback they see each other. But Damian doesn't think too much of a girl around his age a couple yards from him. People he doesn't know on a daily basis surround him; why should a young girl matter to him? But she knows her purpose is to protect him so obviously** ** _he's important to her._**


	6. Chapter 3

The date of her estimated and legal birth date was next week. She was excited for a lack of a better word. She would finally turn 18 and be able to embrace the real her. At last, she would become one with the shadows again.

Amara was relaxing on her roof sipping hot chocolate despite the warm weather, and reflecting over her time in Gotham so far. It was pleasant, she had met Dick, Damian, Alfred, and managed to achieve the status of a hermit. She had yet to meet anyone else, including ... Honestly, she wanted to delay that for as long as possible.

He was Damian's father, Talia's ex-beloved (she assumes as much) and the most important.

He is Batman.

 _ **BATMAN.**_

He would know in seconds. He'd probably rip her apart, feed her to the bats in his cave and then resurrect her and inflict more horrors upon her.

 _Pause._

Okay, so maybe that's a little far-fetched.

 _But only a little._

"I'll have to deal with that as it comes," Amara muses aloud. But first, she must prepare for the grand premiere. Her first night out as her true self.

 _A dangerous nobody._

•

"Good morning, I'm here to talk to the board of directors. Are they in?"

The secretary looks up from the computer and regards me through her eyelashes.

"Let me call you back", she speaks into the receiver. "And who are you?"

 _Snooty little—_ "Amara."

The witch raises her brow in a condensing way. "Amara...?"

 _Inhale. Exhale. Don't kill her Amara, you're above that._

"Crosswell. Amara Crosswell."

She begins to sputter, "C-C-Crosswell?! O-of course ma'am!"

 _Don't smirk._

•

Amara had been seated at the head of the board of directors table. Now she was being stared at as if she were the last of her kind like a wooly mammoth.

I sigh, "Were you not aware of my existence? I was led to believe the Lady spoke of me."

"Yes ma'am, we were notified... We just weren't expecting you, and we've never met you before." A lady named Emily, according to Lady Talia.

"Well, Emily, here I am. I'm sure you all know why. I turn 18 soon, and I would like to start working in the company as its rightful heir."

"You're just a child, what do you know about business?!—"

 _Put him in his place._

"If I were you —"

"She—"

"Exactl—"

 _I should have let my last adversary slay me._

•

5 hours and 2 Tylenol later, I found myself walking around the dirty streets of Downtown Gotham after a long and strenuous meeting.

 _Why—_

"Watch it Richie rich!" A young voice spits as I get bumped hard.

"My apologies that you can't walk properly." I snap, the day's stress catching up to me, loosening my tongue to speak informally.

"Ugh, you're all same! Entitled bastards thinking the world revolves around you!"

"I'll have you know—"

"Whatever." The 5'1, blonde turns to leave and I get a good look at her. She couldn't be more than 16, wearing torn jeans, a dirty shirt, a tattered hoodie and broken combat boots.

 _A child._

I sighed, "Wait, don't go," I soften my voice. "I haven't had lunch yet."

The girl turns to look at me with an unreadable expression, "So?" She murmurs dejected.

"So... I'm new to town, don't know where to eat and the least I can do for bumping into you," _I so didn't,_ "is offer lunch as an apology."

"I'm not a charity case!" She snaps.

"I didn't say you were," I reply calmly.

The blonde stares at me apprehensively for a bit, but I can see how thin she is beneath the shirt, so I feel no pride as the hunger wins over, just relief.

"Fine, follow me."

•

"How are you aware of my wealth?"

The young girl had taken us even deeper into Gotham, to streets as old as the city itself. In the light, you could see the city for what it was. Decaying bricks, homeless people, civilians rushing to get somewhere and a constant buzz from the people and busy streets. This city was alive, barely in some areas, but it was.

 _A survivor._ My mind supplies in a whisper.

Currently, I was seated in a Cafe that although looked nice, had most likely seen better times. In the 90s. But still, it was cozy, secluded, and didn't garner attention. Made up of small booths, high chairs at the counter with cracked red leather and faded red and white striped walls, it was a miracle the staff didn't wear quad roller blades. Fortunately, the roller bladeless staff gave us a booth providing a view of the entire Cafe.

I Ignored the fact that even if they were in quads I'd still enjoy this because these old cafes were the definition of my _normal American childhood._ Even if I'd never admit to that.

"Well, your clothes have a high thread count and you didn't deny it."

 _Slurp._

Ugh. I tried to keep my face neutral.

"...good eye."

"Mhmm."

 _Soft chewing noise._

 _Is this awkward or what?_

"...what's your name?"

"Laila. You?" Short and clipped. More focused on the food.

"I am Amara. Pleasure to make your acquaintance...?" I mentally cringed when it came off like a question.

Laila snorts, "Yeah, okay."

 _Dammit, my eye is twitching._

"So, anything fun to do around here?" I asked, suddenly reminded of my hermit existence. I would need cover-ups for my... nightly activities.

"You mean other than surviving the night?" Laila asked brow raised, shoveling pancakes dripping with syrup in her mouth.

I allowed a smile, despite the chance of it being a jab, amused at the young teenager's snark and mannerisms. "Yes, other than that."

"...for fun...uh...well...there's dancing. Street dancing...but I dunno if that's your thing." She said awkwardly, almost abashed.

"That actually sounds quite perfect. Pray tell where, and the specifications? Is it freestyle or gangs?"

Laila looked slightly impressed. Very slightly, though.

"Nah, its mostly everyone doing their own thing, with the odd dance off here and there...you interested?"

"Yes, very much."

"Well... uh... I don't mind showing you... but you can't come dressed like that. No offense it's just—"

"No," I waved her off, "I understand street dressing, thank you for your concern, but it will not be a problem. Can we meet here at...?" I implored.

"8."

•


	7. Leaving

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p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="5236bff697c404dc7b5e4dbca1114610"Amara had been meditating after a gruesome lesson, where she had been tasked to swim; and although that was always a pleasure, what she had not enjoyed, however, were the 'hostiles' swimming after her. Destroying her enemies under water was not easy, and not worth a simple nod when she resurfaced. She had foolishly hoped for more than style="box-sizing: border-box;" /emTo be frank, her role in Lady Talia's bigger picture was what got her through half her assignments. Those jaded eyes kept her going through the pleasant, horrifying and in between moments that made up her existence./p  
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p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="5d70e576c1ff14a4cfba3b7682177b22"em style="box-sizing: border-box;"Foolish girl, the league waits for no one./em/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="87e31be9d26949527b53743887386662"Amara hurried down the cold hallways to the Lady's chambers, all the while keeping her head down and her panic hidden./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="46ddd242e2d50df1f1368c2b803f0ad2"em style="box-sizing: border-box;"Oh, I do hope the Lady is not disappointed. I completed all my assignments for the day and always meditate at night, so it cannot be a punishment for waisting time... Or what if she knew about the head chef allowing her to sample her son's birthday biryani?! What if the head chef was already dead for that!? Oh I hope not, he was a kind man in a fortress where everyone was her enemy./em/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="a29fa19aa20be5070928adbeb48c50ce"Alas, she had reached the chamber doors and knocked, silencing her thoughts and perfecting her mask./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="e059d21ec52bb07dafd52690adacd83a""Enter."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="374b8c423b5ddff0b3be3991c82b0874"With a quiet exhale Amara pushed open the door enough to allow her to slip in before closing it behind her. She then proceeded to bow and address the Lady with respect./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="9555fd53799c8194e376fb7e9c51583d""You summoned me, Lady Talia."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="48209c06bb4436c839b1487d9ff69186"Talia regarded the young girl in front of her with a cold facade. The girl was now 6 and was more skilled than half of her league. She was becoming the perfect right hand. /p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="d98dbb8bcefbeb0b35554347595c7085"em style="box-sizing: border-box;"A perfect right hand for my son when he will have everything at his fingertips; with her at his side nothing will stand in his way./em/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="3ae8a106de4238576d496181f9c88c98""Yes, I wanted to notify you on the next part of your training. You will find means to find a man named Slade Wilson, better known as Deathstroke. Tell him you have come for the training I discussed with him. You will stay with him for a month, return and train with Shiva for a month. You will continuously switch between both."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="5eb5aa0bf6a724bfb45c7fb87171bb82"em style="box-sizing: border-box;"...what? Jump City? Leave the compound? Myself? For...the infamous Deathstroke.../em/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="124f7e7dd15a88112ec01c52224839dc"em style="box-sizing: border-box;"Then... Lady Shiva... /emAmara hoped her Lady could not see her shiver at the name that reminded her of David Cain, the instructor she was introduced to the day she turned 5./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="f1d0d601ed765aea76095034a9bbcd02""As you wish Lady Talia, may I be so bold as to ask when I depart?" He cannot be worse than Cain, and she could only hope Shiva did not end her./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="21e3f84fb06dff8837e6fd3f985c97dd""Now in fact. You have a month to find the man with nothing but the clothes on your back, your knife, and your head. Eat something and leave."/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="f39dabdcd61850755c146954131e9416"em style="box-sizing: border-box;"I wish I had not bested Cain in our final battle./em/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="ae6a6b678a36fcf87b26b3faba9963cc"I bowed slightly while putting my right fist above my heart, I turned and slipped out just as quietly as I had come in heading towards the kitchen before leaving./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="7f338ffd7e4d569f6cae413e76aac2ae"em style="box-sizing: border-box;"I must get off Nanda Parbat and find a computer. The man loves money, all I have to do is find his last hit, the wire transfer, and his location. Why do I need a month?/em/p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="3a7a6bbc07773ce33de82f7b158bc1d9"How she wishes she never asked herself that./p  
p style="box-sizing: border-box; margin: 0px 0px 24px; font-size: 18px; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; line-height: 24px; padding: 0px; color: #555555;" data-p-id="e23af8ea7286f418f13d0141c185020d"span style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: bold;"So this might be a little confusing but the flashbacks are not going to be in order, they're going to explain Amara's decisions and actions according to the chapters. Sometimes flashbacks might flow together but other times I'll be jumping around her past to explain her present. *Pauses* Hey that was pretty clever!em style="box-sizing: border-box;" /em/spanem style="box-sizing: border-box;"jumping around her past to explain her present./em/p 


	8. Chapter 4

_**8.**_

Laila said 8, but here she was sitting alone in the booth they'd had lunch in only hours before, sipping her shake, staring out the window, wearing street clothes for the last 30 minutes.

 _Sigh, you can never trust people outside of the league for anything._

 _Actually, you can't trust anyone._

 _Why do―_

"Sorry, I'm late! I was trying to find this for you." An out of breath Laila slips into the booth dropping something on the table, "You weren't kidding when you said you knew street dressing and why do you have 2 shakes?" She asks as she stares at the chocolate shake she'd had earlier in the day.

"One is yours," I reply, picking up the... necklace... with some type of bird in metal on it, "Why have you brought me a choker?"

"Thanks!" _Slurp "_ And I just wanted to make sure you fit in. I mean you don't have to wear it if you don't wanna it just seemed―"

"It is fine, thank you for bringing me one." I assure with a smile as I clip it around my neck, "How does it appear?" I ask.

 _That's what girls do right? Ask each other for fashion advice?_

Laila looks up from her shake and stares at me.

"What?" I ask a bit defensive.

"Nothing, it looks good, you look the part. It's just the way you talk that will make you stand out." Laila pushes the straw back into her mouth (presumably with her tongue) _Slurp._

"The way I talk?" I parrot.

"Yeah, I mean you're way too formal. When I brought you the choker you could've just said 'thanks' but you said something like 'thank you for bringing it', on the streets less is more. You get me?"

"Yeah I get it, I'll stand out too much," I say with a small smirk.

"Holy shît! You've been playing all this time!"

"Just because I'm rich, doesn't mean I can't interact like everyone else. And can we go now, I agreed to dance in some random dark corner of the city, not sit in this Cafe drinking shakes."

"Alright, jeez. Lemme just finish mine before we go." Laila replied with an eye roll.

I hummed continuing to stare out the window, and absentmindedly began stroking the bird on my neck.

"What is it?" I ask curiously.

 _Slurp._ "What's what?"

"The bird."

"Oh, I think it's a blackbird, they mean lots of great things."

"Hmmm."

 _Great things...?_

 **(A/N Just imagine it on a dark blue velvet rope)**

•

"Where are we? This place is so... quiet. You sure people dance here?" I ask.

After Laila had finished her shake she had led Amara into the older parts of Gotham where the bricks were crumbling and rat footfalls could be heard in alleys they passed by. Occasionally she could even hear people in the alleys, she chose to ignore whatever they were doing/saying.

"It's a couple more streets ahead. I'd take the shortcuts but I'm not in a rush to run into trouble." Laila replies pulling her hood up.

"Alright." I reply, pulling my sweater closer.

"So, you never did say why you like dancing, or how you can talk normal." she says, glancing back at me.

 _What should I say?_

 _If I tell her the truth, she might see me as an equal._

 _Maybe gaining her trust could make her a source of info on the streets..._

 _eh._

"I lived on the streets a lot when I was growing up."

Laila lets out a low whistle between her teeth, "Damn, you really hit the jackpot then huh?"

"I guess." I reply, slightly uncomfortable at that statement.

 _I mean sure, if you think 18 years of brutal training is fun._

"I'd suggest sticking to your street roots around here."

"...yeah." I replied just as we turned a corner and music began to pick up.

"Welcome to another shady building in old Gotham used for dancing!" She craned her neck to look at me with a smile.

"That's not a name." I reply, slightly exasperated.

"I'm working on it." She snapped back.

 _Jheez._

•

After 3 hours of moving along to grinding and sweaty bodies in tune to the heavy base (and looking for potential drug dealers), Amara was ready to call it quits. Now if only she could _find_ Laila.

"Excuse me."

"Sorry."

"Can I pass?"

"Sorry!"

Everyone else didn't seem too happy about her quest either, no matter her polite excuses.

 _Maybe I should check the bathrooms? That's plausible._

After another 10 minutes of shoving I finally made it to the top floor, and moved aside to let 2 girls pass me by towards the stairs.

 _Wait...where_ _ **is**_ _the bathroom?_

And so I began searching, again. I walked down the metal rafters twisting doorknobs and pushing doorways, until I began to hear voices behind a door that was open a crack.

 _I swear if there's some shady shit going down on the other side of this door..._

Which is when I decided to gently push the door open to metal rafters and a set of stairs, and louder male voices.

 _This is ridiculous, which is why I'm listening in._

Or at least thats what I'm telling myself as I leaned over the rafter to get a better look of the dark room. 4-5 men were sitting around a table playing poker, smoking, and drinking. A lady sat near the middle drinking. Is she a player or a... lady friend.

 _I need to think of something better than that._

"The shipment's going to come through the docks at noon, in broad daylight, that way it won't look suspicious and we won't have to deal with Batman." dumbass number one said.

"What about security checks?" number two said as he moved his chips to the centre of the table.

"Don't worry 'bout 'em." another said as he removed his cigar from his mouth to let smoke billow out.

"And your sure nobody's aware of this? Because last time..." The woman speaks up with a threatening tilt to her voice.

 _Well that answers that question._

"Relax Mel, its a cruiser boat, not even ours, it'll look normal." dumbass number one said.

"It better Ty." Mel hisses in his face as he rolls his eyes.

"After the drugs get there the boss fella will send one of us to pick 'em up, and then we meet up at the 'abandoned' mill, where we'll leave the package for him. He gets his package, we get our money." Ty continues.

 _Thanks Ty. See you tomorrow._

•


	9. Soiled Clothes

_Want you to make me feel..._

 _Like I'm the only girl in the world..._

 _Like I'm the only one that you'll ever love..._

 _Like I'm the only one who knows your heart..._

"Cold does not fucking please me." I mutter under my breath as I shove my hands in my grimy pockets, speed walking to keep up with my target.

 _I swear he best have something worthwhile or imma gut 'em._

Her target looks over their shoulder and begins to speed up.

"Ohh, this just became fun." I murmur with a grin, turning right into an alley that loops around to the kinda sorta _abandoned_ main road.

 _And here we are._

I think as I see him leisurely walking towards his car in an _abandoned_ parking lot.

 _Is he_ _ **asking**_ _for me to drop in?_

 _..._

 _What if he is?_

That thought makes me slow down. After all, it _could_ be a trap.

 _Screw it, it's my only lead._

Mind made, I rush him from behind, knocking his feet out from under him while simultaneously pinning him with a knife to his neck and my knees in his shoulder blades.

"P-p-please d-don't hurt me! Y-you c-can have my w-wallet!" He blubbers as he thrashes beneath me.

"I don't want your money," I hiss with a gravely voice. "I want info. On... Deathstroke. I know you've been in contact with him."

"W-what, w-why would I —"

"Listen pal," I rasp, sliding the blade oh so slowly over his skin, with such _gentle precision_... "When you breathe the same air as the big bads, its best to expect someone like me. So you either stop wasting my time right now, or I cut your throat."

He lets out a hoarse laugh, "You'll slit my throat either way!"

"Maybe, maybe not. But if you waste too much of my time I _guarantee_ I will."

"...He stays at... Point Blank...been there since Monday, he'll move Friday..."

"See, that wasn't so hard was it?"

"P-please let me go!"

"Of course." I purr.

 _Shlick!_

I let his head drop forward and get up wrinkling my nose at my soiled clothes.

"You've been a real help hun, and thanks for the money. I could use it to wash out your blood. See ya 'round."

•

 **Hi.**

 **So sorry but I forgot that I was also posting this story here. Please don't hurt me.**


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